


The Ups and Downs of You and Me

by bigcitydreamer98



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-22 07:23:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3720142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigcitydreamer98/pseuds/bigcitydreamer98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "You Remember Me, Right?" Beca is just arriving back from a summer in London with an internship at one of the best record labels in the world. With unexpected fame, how will Beca transition back into her life as a high school senior? Will Beca and Jesse grow further apart or closer together after a whole summer apart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Luke,” Beca yelled, holding her laptop bag with one hand and the front door open with the other, “Luke, c’mon we have to go.” 

She watched as a pair of feet, clattering down the stairs, made their way towards her. Luke, carrying as many bags as humanly possible, dropped them down in exhaustion at the bottom of the steps. 

Taking one last look at the apartment, or flat as they called it here in the United Kingdom, Luke held the door open for Beca as they walked to the awaiting car. 

They both were too concentrated on their luggage that they missed a flash going off near the side of the apartment.

Their summer had been almost entirely perfect, full of new experiences and talented people and altogether a wonderful atmosphere. Coming into their positions at Replay Records had been difficult, but they both managed. 

There were times of doubt, where most of their days consisted of fetching coffee or arguing with a musician’s agent on the phone, but they also learnt skills that they would need to succeed in the business. 

Life was good and both Beca and Luke were reluctant to go back to the United States. 

Luke, already with his high school diploma, was primed and ready to take up a position at the New York offices and he couldn’t have been happier. With the great recommendations he had from his fellow workers at the London offices and the experience he had built up, Luke was going to make an extraordinary asset to the label. He knew the executives and he also knew many parts of the business. 

Unlike other applicants for the job, he had experience in the exact company he was going to be working for. 

Beca, on the other hand, was going back to school for senior year, but she was also expecting opportunities to pop up that would halt her time in school as she jetted off somewhere to work on an album. 

In the office, Beca had taken over more of the producer, hands-on side of the work and Luke had become somewhat of a manager. She did the music and he approved it and then he found the talent and she produced it. They were a team, just like they always had been. 

The one thing Luke tried to push to the back of his mind was Jesse. That boy was too persistent. 

Really, coming after Beca the second she was ready to have the best experience of her life? They were talking about Beca here, not some traditional woman who cared more about starting a family and settling down than she did about her career track. 

Beca was the girl that ignored every guy that looked her way; the girl who poured her soul into her career and into her music. That had always been the goal; her career. 

The Beca he knew would never give it up for some boy. She lived and breathed music, which was the most important thing the two of them had in common. It wasn’t the 1920s when girls looked to marry before thinking about how it would affect their jobs and aspirations. 

Beca had always known what she wanted. For years all she would talk about was ‘paying her dues’ and finding her way into the industry, no matter what she had to do. Luke wasn’t going to let some silly decision to follow her heart rather than follow her dreams dictate the rest of her life.

No. That was just not an option. 

When they first arrived in London, they didn’t get calls or texts on their phones for a month.One, they didn’t want to pay international charges and also, the company had given them free phones to keep. It was a major bonus that they were given the latest iPhones to drop on the consumer market. 

They did keep in touch with people through Facebook Chat and Skype. Beca swore by them. Those were some of the best inventions known to man. 

Chloe skyped Beca the second she got off the plane, explaining that she looked up the exact time the flight would land so she would know exactly when to call. It wasn’t like they had much to talk about except for the nice, elderly woman that sat next to Beca on the plane. They hadn’t even made their way out of the airport yet so Beca didn’t have many exciting stories to tell her, but it was nice to hear her voice. 

They continued their calls together, pretty much everyday. Chloe told Beca about the crazy antics that the group got themselves into and Beca made sure to keep Chloe updated on how her british accent was coming. Beca even made sure to send a message to Amy whenever she found a guy that Amy would want to ‘hump like a dingo in heat.’ 

Everything was going fine, except for Jesse. Even though Chloe told her that he understood her reasoning for saying goodbye before she left, she still felt embarrassed. She didn’t think she could look him in the eye if they video chatted. That’s why whenever Chloe tried to give the phone to Jesse, she would immediately make up an excuse. 

What she didn’t know was that Jesse had a plan of his own to make her respond to him. Getting back his job at the local radio station and saving up his money, and restricting himself to only buying one movie per week (blu ray, of course) Jesse almost had enough money to buy a one way ticket there. 

Who knew plane tickets were so expensive? It literally cost over two thousand dollars for a one way ticket from Atlanta to London. He would get there, right? 

Luke’s and Beca’s parents checked in on them almost daily in the beginning, making sure that they weren’t dead in some alleyway. Once they realized their children were actually finding their way and learning the ropes, the calls became more scattered, but still every time Dr. Mitchell was on the phone, he would threaten to kill Luke if he let anything happen to his little girl. 

The calls also began to dwindle because their parents saw how much success they were getting. After weeks and weeks of coffee runs, Beca and Luke were finally allowed to work on a project. It was an album for a boy band (insert Beca’s eye roll here) that went to the top of the British charts the first hour it premiered. It wasn’t the ideal talent they wanted to work with, but it put their names on the map. None of the band’s fans knew who they were, but it wasn’t like Luke and Beca were looking for fame. 

One surprising thing did happen that changed Beca’s life forever. While she was helping the boys pick songs to record and helping them change up some melodies, she had sent them a copy of her singing the melodies so they would understand how she thought they would work best. 

While mixing together the different parts in the late hours of the night, she didn’t realize that she kept her own vocals on the track. Hyped up on caffeine and energy drinks, Beca sent the track to the music distributer without even realizing it. 

That’s why it was so much of a surprise when she heard the song on the radio with her voice ringing out of her car speakers. She almost had to pull over because her mind was spinning so fast.

They band members wouldn’t accept any of her apologies after she tried multiple times. All they kept saying was she made the track better and they should be the ones thanking her. 

The boys had already been in the public eye for awhile, but who was the mystery girl? 

No one recognized her voice as an already famous singer so the mystery continued. Radio personalities talked about the unknown girl while fangirls blogged about who they assumed the girl to be. It became so out of hand that Beca had to rub her eyes to believe she wasn’t dreaming. 

Everyone wanted to know who the mystery girl was and Beca finally let them. 

Mark Whitman had called her himself asking to know who the girl was and Beca had to sheepishly respond it was her. Before long, he had a business plan set up for her to expose herself as the mystery girl. Mark Whitman wanted the company to become well known and he believed Beca was the way to do that. 

Beca, on the other hand, was reluctant to reveal herself. She didn’t want to be critiqued or interviewed. She didn’t want faceless people on the internet to post all their thoughts about her. All she wanted to do was make music. But it wasn’t her decision anymore and on July 22st on one of the most popular late night talk shows in the surrounding area, Beca was unveiled to the world as London’s favorite mystery singer. 

She never understood how to interview properly. Looking back, she thought she was too fidgety and sometimes she would say ‘umm’ too many times. Beca looked away after a few seconds of watching herself on the show. 

She wasn’t some pop star or movie actress. She was just a girl, Beca Mitchell, who just wanted to sit behind a desk and move levers and slide slides to make music. 

Beca didn’t think she belonged on the stage, but most people disagreed.

The next day, people were talking about her, discussing what they liked and disliked about Beca. Many people found her nervousness endearing, proving to the world that she was just a girl next door. Other people were too wrapped up in rumors of her dating one of the band members. Soon enough, she was asked to go on talk shows and do interviews for the radio. The nation was buzzing with the sounds of Beca Mitchell.

After being pushed into this whirlwind of experiences, Beca tried to refocus on her music.

She said no to more and more of the guest appearances and she eased up on her twitter account which many people seemed to enjoy. Why they cared about her day to day happenings or snarky tweets in the dead of night she would never know? 

Somehow, it felt like almost overnight, the numbers of her followers rose to the sky, the numbers increasing so fast that she had to turn off the new follower notifications. Even though she was trying to move more out of the public eye, believing that she already had her ten seconds of fame, the attention only started to increase. 

Photographers were now asking to shoot her for the covers of magazines and big men with even bigger cameras were following her every turn, snapping pictures and thrusting pictures in front of her face to sign. 

It was just going to be nice to get away from it all. The summer had finally come to an end, an end to the race that was their everyday life. Boarding the plane with a ticket in hand, Luke and Beca buckled their seatbelts and waited for the the pilot to take them back home.


	2. Chapter 2

Jesse walked down the narrow hallway, his sneakers squeaking on the tiled floors and his eyes adjusting to the fluorescent bulbs. A hand rubbed circles on his back as the girl tried to search for his emotional state behind his stiff facade. 

A suitcase to his right and an unused ticket popping out of the side of his pocket, he looked so out of place in the waiting room. There were only three other people there, a mother and a son and an older man flipping through a golfing magazine. No one seemed to look twice at him, thankfully. 

He wasn’t supposed to be here, this wasn’t the plan. 

He knew it and she knew it. 

His eyes closed as he pictured the plane as it took off of the runway, the buildings turning into play houses and the people becoming so tiny that you could hardly see them without squinting. The sounds of the engines as they fired up filled his ears. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

It was the middle of the summer and even though his hands were calloused from writing down all the information about each CD he stacked and he was constantly sneezing because of all the dust that he fell on him from the shelves lining the radio station, he had finally made it. Grinning as he saw the account balance from his bank, he knew that all the work had paid off.

Just when he had lugged his suitcase to the check-in desk at the airport, his phone had started to ring. This buzzing continued and the person seemed to want to get his attention because the ringtone just began again and again.

He really wanted to ignore it, wanting to concentrate on finding his gate number.

Fumbling with his suitcase, his jacket, his wallet, and everything in between, he smiled sheepishly at the attendant while he picked up the phone while pushing the ticket over the counter to her.

The single sob Jesse heard through the speaker perked his attention, focusing on the voice and trying to coax the person into telling him what had happened. “

Come,” his father said on the other line, his voice shaking and cracking with every second, “We need you, Jesse. The hospital” 

Without a word, Jesse hung up the phone after his father could hardly get out the two words that panged Jesse’s heart. 

Your mother.

The attendant, seeing his face drop lower and lower while he was on the phone, had already started the stop processing his ticket. When he saw what she was doing, he just thankfully nodded. With sad eyes, she handed Jesse the ticket with a form on top on how to file a refund.

Sending a text to Chloe, who had driven him to the airport, Jesse almost ran towards the double doors. Chloe immediately turned around the car, meeting him at the passenger drop off lot. She didn’t know what else to do than to hug him tight when saw the frantic look on his face. Tossing his stuff in the back of his car, he told her to go to ‘the hospital’ without another word. 

Throughout the ride, neither of them talked. 

Chloe had no idea what happened, but didn’t want to ask him. She didn’t want him to start bawling, to break apart at the seams, so Chloe stayed quiet, following the roads and the turns that would take her straight to the hospital. 

His mother had always been the strong one, the one to bake them cookies when they were up late, studying for finals or the one that would drive Chloe to and from acting class when her parents were away on a business trip. Nothing could happen to her; she was too young. Nothing could happen to her. 

The reassurance just made Chloe’s heart race faster.

Jesse, on the other hand, didn’t know much about what happened either. All he knew was that his father never asked him for anything and when he did, it was beyond important. Something terrible had gone wrong with his mother and Jesse knew that whatever it is, he had to be there. 

Turning on the radio to relieve some of the tension, Chloe turned it so low that you could hardly hear the voices. It was a boy band that Chloe actually liked, from London she thought. 

She didn’t turn up the volume, trying to do everything to keep Jesse in one piece. The music played as Chloe and Jesse pulled into the hospital lot. 

They didn’t notice the girl singing the harmonies, her voice ringing clear and sounding very familiar. 

…..  
Beca was worried. It was only the middle of the summer and even though she had many weeks left to work on different projects, she wasn’t sure if she would still have her job. 

How could she be so stupid? 

Beca played with her earrings, twirling the diamond stud over and over in her fingertips. She should’ve just sent in the song when she was awake, not half asleep and hardly able to utter real words. During the weeks leading up to the release of the album, her diet consisted of coffee, espressos, cappuccinos, and everything in between, along with frozen dinners and bags of crisps. Beca still couldn’t get used to calling chips crisps and fries chips. Those british people needed to switch up their vocabulary. It was embarrassing the amount of times she had said fries and people just rolled their eyes at her.

It was the week after she had accidentally sent in the wrong version of the song she was producing to the distributors. The song was already playing on the radio, throughout malls, and anywhere there were teenagers. 

At first she was overjoyed when she heard the song while walking down the street. Some teenage girl was blasting it so loud from her phone that Beca was able to hear it. The beats that she worked on so diligently fit together like a puzzle piece, bringing the entire song together. 

When she heard the boys sing, she couldn’t have been prouder. They were actually decent people despite all the thousands of girls who had their faces plastered to their walls. I mean, who would hang up pictures of people you have never even met before? She was just glad something she made, slaved hours over, was on the radio. 

Wait...what was that? 

Beca tried to listen more closely to the music, attempting to walk closer to the girl without acting too much like a stalker. All she needed was the british police to come running after her and deporting her back to the United States. When she heard the voice that she had grown accustomed to over the years, her own, Beca jumped back, almost knocking into a street sign. 

Why the hell was she on the track? Her? Beca Mitchell? Oh my god, what did she do?

…..  
Chloe watched as a sleeping Jesse slept in the chair right beside his mother. The pain that was etched on his face the past few days was wiped clean as he slept. Still wearing the same jacket as he was wearing when they got here on Tuesday, Jesse’s breaths evened out as he limbs became limp and his head rolled onto his neck. Chloe slowly took the ticket that was flapping up and down as he slept out of his pocket. 

Sighing, she turned it around in her hands, looking at the thinly printed letters on the front. Jesse was supposed to go see Beca today. He was going to surprise her with The Breakfast Club and a packet of M&M’s, pretending that it was no big deal he was in London, flying halfway across the world just to see her. Chloe and Jesse had planned it all out ever since she left, spending nights looking up cheap flights. Beca would look at him in astonishment and Jesse would just pretend he had been in London the whole time with her. 

Everything was going to be so perfect, but of course something went wrong. 

Chloe loved Mrs. Swanson like her own mother, sometimes even more because Mrs. Swanson made this amazing lasagna that you just had to taste. She had to look away when Jesse and her were first admitted into her hospital room. Seeing Mrs. Swanson’s pale face and baggy hospital gown made everything look so serious, so hopeless. 

Chloe held Jesse’s hand when his father explained how their family had a history of heart disease. It was something that ran in Mrs. Swanson’s mother and her grandmother. When she was younger, doctors ran tests on young Mrs. Swanson, finding nothing that would indicate she had gotten the poor genes that put her more at a risk for heart disease. Unfortunately, the doctor’s advice all those years ago had been proved wrong because exactly and hour and a half after Jesse had left for the airport, kissing his mother on the cheek and hugging his father tight, his mother had had a heart attack. 

The heart attack wasn’t the big problem in this situation, actually the doctors said she was at risk but not serious risk to have another heart attack as long as she took the prescribed medicine. The issue was how she fell. Even though to almost everyone Mrs. Swanson always looked young and energetic, she was aging just as everyone did. With her son almost ready to go to college, it wasn’t a surprise that she was getting older. Her muscles weren’t what the used to be. 

Falling onto the porch steps as her heart stopped working, her back had been injured severely, prompting the doctors to declare that she needed back replacement surgery. 

Chloe closed her own eyes, falling asleep on the hardened chair next to Jesse. Suddenly his phone rang, buzzing off the bed. On the caller ID was the name, Beca Mitchell. 

On the other side of the world, Beca Mitchell let a tear drop from her eye as she awaited the call from Mark Whitman, who was probably going to fire her on the spot. Hanging up the phone as the call went to voicemail, she left the phone on the coffee table as she walked up to Luke, who had just come home, as he wrapped his arms around her.


	3. Chapter 3

The stupid airlines messed everything up, once again. To her knowledge, she didn’t do anything to deserve this but it seemed like life wasn’t on her side today. 

First of all, they had gotten lost on the way to the London airport. Despite living there for the better part of the summer, Luke and Beca still didn’t know their way around. It didn’t help that they had to adjust to driving on the left side of the road. Beca wouldn’t say how many times, but she did come pretty close to getting into an accident multiple days in the last few months. 

Beca had to try to scan all the signs on the side of the road for any indications of the airport while Luke did his best to navigate the winding streets. Once they got there, they were met with a mob of photographers. God knows how they knew Beca and Luke were going to be at the airport this moment in time. 

Trying to hide herself under her jacket, Beca ran inside the building, escorted by ushers that handled her bags and obstructed the photographer's’ view. Now they had pictures of her in her worn out uggs and old sweater she had found in the bottom of her suitcase and decided to wear it just because it the only clean option. Beca would do anything to avoid doing laundry. 

They better not print those pictures in any magazines unless she would give them a piece of her mind. She looked like a crazy person today, her hair thrown in a messy bun on the top of her head and bags of snacks falling out of her purse. The snacks they hand out on the plane are never very good, FYI. 

Last, and hopefully least, the pilot had announced that due to the inclement weather, they were going to get to JFK airport an hour or so after they were supposed to land. She was going to sleep over at Luke’s apartment before heading off to Atlanta the next day. His job was starting and she had to get ready for senior year (insert groan here). 

They had already been on the plane for hours and if Beca had to hear that guy in front of her snore one more time she might go crazy. Also, her father was going to kill her if she missed Sheila's birthday tomorrow. Beca even bought her an I Love London t-shirt and everything and the heart was the british flag. That was a lot coming from Beca. 

Beca just hoped they would at least shut off the inflight movie. I mean, who really wanted to watch The Notebook for the seven hundredth time? She disregarded the group of women a few seats up from her that were dabbing the sides of their eyes with the napkins they had gotten with their peanuts and pretzel bags. She never understood why people thought kissing in the rain was romantic. If she was out there for that long, she would be freezing, just saying.

She pushed back her chair even more, careful not to wake the sleeping kid behind her, and turned up the volume until the only thing she could hear was the beat striking the melody at perfect intervals. 

…..  
Packing her headphones back into her back and waking Luke up from his slumber, Beca threw on a jacket as the plane started to descend. She never really minded flying like most people do. She actually enjoyed being high up in the air, away from everyone and everything, but she never liked descending since her stomach would drop and her ears would pop. To tell you the truth, she was never a fan of roller coasters either. Big surprise.

Luke offered her a piece of gum as she silently thanked him. 

Lugging all her stuff off the plane, getting a few angry stares because she wasn't moving fast enough down the aisle (that clan of elderly women have really mastered their death stares), Beca walked briskly towards the baggage claim. The sooner she grabbed her stuff the sooner she could curl up in bed and sleep for the rest of eternity. 

Craning her neck to search for her suitcase as it ride around on the track, Beca noticed a pair of eyes staring at her. Soon, it was two pairs, then three. It was like she was an exhibit at a museum. An invisible barrier came up between her and everyone else as they begun to snap pictures and giggle among themselves. 

Groaning to herself, Beca pulled her suitcase off the track and tried not to draw any more attention to herself. People started coming up to her, shoving any piece of paper in her face to sign. She really hated how the internet allowed news to spread internationally so quickly. No, she didn’t want to sign your crumbled up plane ticket and she would preferably not want to talk about the band or sing anything for you. Luke warded off most of the fans, acting as her bodyguard. Quickly enough, she hailed the first taxi that passed, jumping into the back seat and pulling Luke along with her.

…..  
New York, Manhattan to be exact. She could’ve cried with happiness. Maybe life didn’t hate her as much as she thought. Beca disregarded the rain that was sliding down the roof of the building and onto the ground, only taking in the smell of one dollar pizza and Starbucks coffee. Oh, how she missed it. 

She loved how the people would push past her on their brisk walk towards wherever they were headed. She missed the smell of damp sidewalks and seeing the sight of the rundown music shop that was on the side of her street. Everything was the same and she forgot how much she loved it. 

She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to take this taxi straight back to Luke’s house and fall asleep to the sounds of car horns and the clatter of the subway as it rolled passed. Beca wanted to crash on his couch, throwing popcorn at him until he agreed to go with her to the record store, or lay down in Central Park and feel the sun on her face. 

Luke had waved her goodbye, hugging her for a good thirty seconds. “Break some hearts for me,” Beca whispered in his ear before she walked towards the awaiting cab. Luke just laughed, “Will do, Becs. Oh, and you better fly back as soon as you possibly could. The city and I will be waiting.” From the window of the taxicab, using her sleeve to wipe off the dirt, she smiled as Luke disappeared into a tiny speck on the sidewalk.

…..  
“Beca, c’mon. If we don’t go now, we’ll miss our dinner reservation,” Dr. Mitchell called. His teenage daughter had been hibernating in her bed ever since she got home. Only just a few minutes ago had she awoken from her slumber to the sounds of her father getting ready. “Dad, you just go. You’ll have more fun the two of you, anyway.” Beca knew her attempt was futile, but it was worth a shot.

“Beca, if I have to come up there,” Dr. Mitchell started his sentence as he looked at his watch, holding the door open with his foot. Before he could make up some punishment for Beca, she appeared at the top of the stairs in an old, band t-shirt and a pair of shorts. With a huff, she walked outside, entering the car. 

The ride was short. Beca opened her window wide and breathed in the fresh air. Soon enough the days would become shorter and Beca could hardly think about it without wanting to freeze time. Sheila worked as a nurse at the local hospital; Beca didn’t know how she was a nurse because every time she saw the stepmonster she felt a little bit sicker. Untangling her headphones and stuffing them in her pockets, Beca walked silently next to her father into the building. 

As he sparked up a conversation with the lady at the reception desk, she snuck away to try to find a vending machine. She hadn’t had any good food since she left London and she was really hoping they had a package of M&M’s. Much to her dismay, a tall figure was at the machine already, feeding his dollar in the slit. Beca tapped her foot impatiently while checking to see if she got any texts from Luke who was supposively meeting with his new employer today. 

“Hey, buddy. Can you hurry it up?” Beca crossed her arms over her chest. The figure turned around, revealing the one person that she wasn’t expecting. “Jesse?” She asked as her phone almost slid out of her hand onto the ground. What was he doing here?


	4. Chapter 4

Beca was at a loss for words, which was surprising in itself; Beca always had something to say. She was the type of person to go against any teacher if she knew she could win and fight any bully if it meant they would run away with their tail between their legs. But here, staring at Jesse, she couldn't even muster up a single word. Her heart beat in her chest as she opened her mouth slightly, as if to speak, before closing it once again. She couldn’t find the right word, the word that would sum all her regret for leaving abruptly as well as her desire for things to go back to how they had been.

She left, yes, without even saying goodbye. How stupid could she be? She knew she had to go, but really, Beca, not even telling him face to face? Jesse should hate her; she kinda hated her. 

He was just standing there, his wallet dangling from his pointer finger and his other hand in his pocket. She wished she could just go up to him and give him a hug, but she couldn't bear it if he flinched and walked away.

At least he didn't look angry, but when did Jesse ever look angry? She should just walk away this second, turn on her heel and pretend like this never happened. Yeah, that's what she should do. It will take away the pain; then, Beca wouldn’t have to see the pained look that would glaze over his face, or even worse, a blank face that would stare at her like she meant nothing. She had hurt him; she should've said goodbye, but she didn't. What was wrong with her. You know what, she was just going to go.

Right as she was turning her feet ever so slightly to make a run for it, Jesse blurted out, "I’ve missed you, Becs."

At the sound of his voice, she froze in her spot. On one hand she wanted to run towards him, feeling his arms wrap around her own but on the other hand, it shouldn’t be that easy. Of course he would say that. He was too nice for his own good sometimes. If she was in his place she would stomp off and curse the ground she walked on. Beca flew across the world for an entire summer without so much as a note. Why does he still care? 

She looked up at his face, tufts of his hair sticking in every different direction. She should've told him that she didn't deserve his kindness; she didn't deserve him, but Beca was selfish. She glided towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling her head in his chest. The scent that she could never put a name to, nothing but 'Jesse', filled her nose, making her head sink deeper into the folds of his clothes.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, Jess. I’m so sorry. I should’ve, you know,” Beca couldn’t even meet his gaze but she automatically knew his response when he pulled her closer to him. How did she deserve him? He rubbed circles on her back, memorizing every curl that fell against her shirt. 

He wasn’t mad; he didn’t even think he had the right to be mad. Chloe explained Beca’s reasoning against not saying goodbye. Even though he would’ve loved to squeeze her tight and wave to her as she boarded the plane, he also had this small part within him that knew if she showed just a small bit of doubt against going to London, he wouldn’t have stopped her from cancelling her flight. It wouldn’t be the right thing to do and Jesse knew that that would be self serving, but sometimes Jesse couldn’t help it with her. 

He missed the way her eyes would light up when she finished a track or how she would push a curl behind her ears when she was studying. She had to go to London, he knew that. London was where the internship of a century was and they wanted her. The record company saw her talent and wanted to snatch her right up. He knew it was going to happen at some point. What they didn’t know was that they were taking her away from him. 

“No apologies needed, Bec. I’m just happy you’re here, finally,” she picked up her head at the sound of his words, sending a smile right up at him. For a second it made him forget they were in the hospital, that of all places, where he should be focusing on a more dire situation. 

But for now, he was going to soak up all the Beca he could, covering up his own problems with her vitality and lightness that lit up the room. Everything was going to be okay if he just focused on her, only her, and not everything else that was swirling inside his mind like storm clouds ready to rumble. 

Swinging an arm around her shoulder, he walked her to the set of chairs in the nearby room. She wanted to blurt out, ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again, proving to him that she had made a mistake. Beca was learning to open up more and she thought she was getting better at it. No longer did the headphones cover her ears, blocking out the world. Now, she had someone to share an earbud with to engage in their own little world together. 

Running away like a coward and not even telling him was a step backwards in the wrong direction, being selfish and worrying about herself other than what was right. She wouldn’t do it again. She wouldn’t, she swears. 

For a second she almost forgot why she was here, abandoning the stepmonster and her whipped father. She didn’t remember she had to get back to them or that she should probably at least call her father. Jesse’s thoughts about his mother disappeared from his mind for this short few minutes, replaced by the happiness that consumed him when he saw Beca, back where she was most needed. 

The spell was broken when the doctor walked into the waiting room, making eye contact with Jesse before ushering him to follow his lead. Beca, her eyebrows raised, was ready to ask why he was here when her dad emerged from behind the doorway, his face scrunched and his body rigid.

“Beca, I’ve been looking for you all over,” Dr. Mitchell said, a scowl on his face, “Let’s go. We are going to miss our reservation.” Beca looked at Jesse as he got up and followed the doctor, smiling at him once more before mouthing that she would be back tomorrow. Receiving her whisper with a wave and a grin, he followed the doctor as his face turned still once again when she wasn’t looking, his mind racing back to thoughts of his mom as quickly as they had vanished. Before Beca could ask him where he was going, her father was already halfway out the door, motioning for Beca to follow him.


	5. Chapter 5

Her fingers glazed over the screen, scrolling past the names so quickly she hardly registered the names of the people on her contact list, ranging from one time acquaintances to flesh and blood. Pausing at the name she had been looking for, Beca couldn’t bring herself to do anything but stare. The series of letters looked so familiar to her, spelling at the name that rolled off her tongue many times prior. Soon enough, she spent so long looking at the pixels of the screen that the letters started to blur and Beca had to blink to regain focus. 

He wasn’t going to be up, of course he wasn’t. It was four o’clock in the morning on a weekend during the summer. No one in their right mind was up this early and if they were, Beca though they should go see some psychiatric help. If it was her choice, she would be in bed as early as possible, cuddled up next to her laptop and listening to music blast out of her headphones. 

The absolute only reason she was awake and not fast asleep with her head upon her pillow was because she needed to finish this one mix before sending it off to the record company tomorrow. It was almost done and even though she should’ve been stressed out, she wasn’t. The music flowed like rushing waves over her body, so connected with every beat blending into the next. It was going to be a hit, she didn’t doubt it. 

It was nice to be home, to see her room that had been home to her for the past year. It almost felt like she was returning home from college, exhausted and just ready to eat pizza and sleep. She wouldn’t have traded her time in London for the world, but it didn’t mean that it wasn’t nice to curl up in a ball on her chair, cocooned in a blanket and basking in the glow from her desktop. In London everything seemed so professional, so precise. There wasn’t a bowl of doritos on the side of her desk or personal pictures lining the walls. 

She had missed it. And she had missed them. Chloe probably knew she was back due to her obsession with gossip magazines. “Beca, I know they’re bad, but they’re just so good,” Chloe had said on numerous occasions. Beca never thought that she would be in one of those trashy magazines, let alone have her picture on the front cover. Yes, she had no doubt Chloe had seen the pictures from the airport. God, everyone probably saw those pictures. She would meet up with Chloe and talk to Amy about all the cute, British guys she met and maybe she would even give Lilly the weird trinkets she had picked up on her travels. Jesse, now he was the one she was still most nervous to be around. 

He couldn’t forgive her that easy; they couldn’t go back to how they used to be. She knew she was bound to leave soon, but she wasn’t going to mention it the first day she got back. Replay Records wanted to send her to Los Angeles for an extended weekend coming up to meet one of the new executives who was very excited to meet her. All she wanted was to be with her friends once more. 

Clicking on the save button, typing in the title of the song and sending it as an attachment, she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. It was done. Soon enough, she knew the song would be played all over the radio, on teenagers’ iPhones and the satellite subscription radios in cars. It would be blasting from the speakers in the malls and set as a ringtone. 

That’s what she loved about it. Hearing a song she worked on being broadcast for everyone to hear sent shivers down her spine. Even if the listeners didn’t know it, behind the song was her, Beca Mitchell, slaving away on a laptop for hours working to perfect the song. Her blood, sweat, and tears went into every song, even if the blood was just all the cups of coffee she downed, the sweat was her stiffness from getting up after sitting down in the same place for so long, and the tears were the constant stress she was under to save her work every second to avoid losing her work if the autosave malfunctioned. 

That’s why, once it was sent out and everything was complete, it felt like a load was lifted off of her back. She was a perfectionist when it came to music, maybe not when it came to science or even math (she never seemed to care as much about the periodic table as her teacher wanted her to), but when she was creating music, it had to be perfect. The beats had to strike at all the right points and the volume had to hover over a certain volume so it wasn’t too loud and it wasn’t too soft. 

Falling onto her bed, still wrapped up in a blanket, she picked up her phone. Right in front of her, on the wall, was a picture Jesse, Chloe, and her that had been taken the day of the Winter dance. A smile was dancing on her face as she gazed at Jesse and he returned her smile right back. She wanted to talk to him, but she doubted he would respond at this crazy time. His head was probably buried in his pillows while a movie played in the background, projecting indistinguishable pictures onto his back from the images on the screen. 

So, here she was, staring at his name, urging, as if by magic, for him to send the first text. Gingerly typing out the two letters that spelled the most common greeting word in all of human history, she sent the text and hoped that he wouldn’t think she was crazy for sending a text at four in the morning. She closed her eyes briefly, engulfed by the darkness that contrasted the light of her laptop that had filled her eyes for the past few hours. Suddenly, her phone vibrated in her hand, a chime ringing out simultaneously. 

“Hi, yourself,” the text read and Beca could hardly believe her eyes. He must be a crazy as her for staying up so late. Pulling her sleeves over her hands, she propped up a pillow behind her head and began to respond, “I can’t believe you responded. Why are you up at this time?” 

Within seconds she had her response, reading over the words as they appeared on her screen, “I could be asking you the same thing. Hospital chairs are not very comfy.” Beca opened her eyes wide, remembering she forgot to ask him why he was in the hospital in the first place. She had thought he was there because Chloe volunteered at the hospital sometimes and Jesse used to tag along whenever he was able to, but he wouldn’t still be there at this time.

How did she forget to ask him? It wasn’t like she had a very eventful evening. The stepmonster, her father, and her had walked one by one into a restaurant looking over the water. The waves crashed along the shore and she could hear seagulls calling in the background. A low music played through the speakers and a wait staff clad in matching outfits were waiting on them hand and foot. The food was good, but that was expected even though Beca was sure it was interlaced with some sleep aids because she felt drowsy. Maybe it was her father’s boring conversations or how everyone else in the restaurant seemed to talk in hushed tones. All Beca knew was that if they didn’t leave soon, she would end up with her head in her pasta, the sauce dripping off the noodles, and she didn’t think she would look good as a redhead.

When they had arrived back home, hardly talking the ride back, Beca had retreated to her room to work on some tracks. Neither her father nor Sheila had tried to stop her even though her father had mentioned more times than once during dinner that after dinner he would like her to tell them a little bit about her trip. 

Beca decided to call him, pressing the phone up to her ear and waiting to hear the consecutive rings. 

“Jesse, are you okay? Why are you sleeping at the hospital,” Beca knew she should probably open up the conversation a little less intensely, but she didn’t have the patience. 

Jesse, resting back into his chair, listening to the steady heartbeat on the monitor, he responded with a sigh, “My mother’s not doing too well. She had a heart attack and now the doctors are recommending surgery.” He didn’t her to feel bad for him and he truly didn’t mean to switch the tone of the conversation towards a darker route, but there was no easy way to say it. Running his hand through his hair, he continued, “Becs, are you still there?”

She didn’t know to apologize profusely or yell at the world for dealing such a great woman a bad hand of cards, but she knew one thing. “I’m coming over,” she responded without missing a breath.


	6. Chapter 6

As soon as Beca hung up the phone, she grabbed her jacket off her bed and rushed out the front door. It didn’t even occur to her that she was still in her pajamas, an old t-shirt slung over her head, but in truth, she probably wouldn’t have cared even if she did notice. Beca’s mind was on autopilot the entire ride, staring straight ahead at the road in front of her. Her iPod, which was usually blasting music for the whole neighborhood to hear, was silent. Beca was going through all the motions without even thinking it through. Turn right. Keep left. Stop. Breathe... Breathe.

Why didn’t he tell her...why didn’t she ask? 

Parking her car in the garage adjacent to the hospital, she jumped out of the seat and briskly walked towards the entrance, pulling her arms closer to her body to shield away from the oncoming breeze. Beca pushed her hair behind her ear as she was hit by the bright lights of the hospital. People were moving this way and that, holding clipboards of information or balloons for their friends and family. A mother and father were pushing a little girl in a wheelchair towards the cafeteria, struggling to hold the largest teddy bear Beca had seen in her life. 

If she wasn’t in so much of a rush, she would’ve stopped and taken everything in. In every corner of the hospital was a different story, one of joy or sorrow, of love and kindness. For a place where so many people were on the brink of true adversity, Beca couldn’t picture anywhere else that was so full of life. 

She turned this way and that way, looking for the one person she wanted to see more than anyone else in the world at this moment. Jesse. The guy that always puts others’ needs in front of his own, the person that pushed her to pursue her passion, was sitting on a chair towards one end of the hall, tapping his foot on the ground. Beca wanted to wipe his sad eyes and sullen look off his face, hoping to see the Jesse that was always smiling, with a movie and popcorn in hand.

He just looked so out of place there. Beca never would have thought Jesse would be among the people of pain, of suffering. Most of the time she was anxious his face would stay frozen as a smile because he never did anything else.

“Jesse,” she said in almost a whisper, scanning his face to see his reaction. He just seemed so fragile, so tired. When she first saw him, yesterday, she was too wrapped up in herself to see the slight changes that were unfolding in front of her eyes. Instead of watching the way his mouth would turn downward when nobody was looking, Beca had just glazed over everything, to see what she wanted to see. 

She pictured Jesse, the Jesse that took her to see movies for lunch everyday or threw baking ingredients at her. She completely went over the dark circles under his eyes and how his hair was sticking up in every direction like he had been sleeping in a contraption of chairs every night. She wasn’t seeing him, but she was now.

Wordlessly, she bent down to his level, staring deep into his eyes. She was the one who was supposed to be the person that needed nurturing and care. Beca was never the caregiver, but at this moment, it felt like second nature. She held his hands in her own, rubbing her thumb over the top of his hand. 

She could’ve went on and on about how sorry she was or how wonderful Mrs. Swanson had always been, but she didn’t need to tell him. Jesse already knew. Jesse always knew. Instead, they just sat there together. They didn’t need to talk or joke, all he really needed was to know she was there, that whatever happens, she will be there.

The silence wasn’t looming over them like dark clouds, in actuality, it was a blanket of serenity and comfortability. When Jesse was ready to speak, his words came out shorter than they usually did. He told her how his mother didn’t want to take any medicine because she believed in a holistic, medical approach. ‘I’m fine,’ she always said, masking up the pain whenever her family was around. 

Beca remembered when she had fallen off her bicycle years ago, breaking her arm. The pain was excruciating, so terrifying that she couldn’t put it into words. Her pain had only lasted minutes before her father had ran to her with pain medicine and a blanket to wrap her in as her family rushed to the hospital. If the throbbing aches that shot through her body for those brief minutes was anything like what Mrs. Swanson was feeling, Beca couldn’t even imagine not taking medicine. Sneezing away her days in the fall and spring days was enough for Beca to take an allergy pill and lug around a box of tissues.

Beca could’ve said how Mrs. Swanson was going to be fine, but that’s not what he wanted to hear. He had his friends and family to repeat the same things over and over to him on a loop, ‘She’s strong, she’ll get through it.’

Beca, on the other hand, just looked up at him and said, “She’ll lucky to have a son like you.” Even if it was just for a second and even if Beca had imagined it, the corners of his mouth turned upwards and his face lifted. “Whatever happens, she loves you with all her heart,” Beca continued, her gaze meeting his own. 

She was surprised when he lifted himself off his chair, offering his hand to her, “Do you want to see her?” Beca just nodded as she followed Jesse’s lead, looking over her shoulder at the vending machine she had seen last night. They walked past doors and doors, each with names written on the whiteboards hung on the doors. Some had messages from family and friends with letters and cards and pictures lining the basic door frame. Stopping at the door at the end of the hall, Jesse entered first with Beca tagging right behind. 

In the hospital bed was Mrs. Swanson, reading a book silently, her glasses upon her face and a light shining onto the pages. She looked the same as she always had been, a middle aged woman with bright eyes and long, flowing hair, but Beca could also see the wrinkles starting to form and the way her head hung a little lower than usual. 

When Beca entered the room, Mrs. Swanson turned around, staring at the petite brunette holding onto her son’s arm like she wasn’t supposed to be here. 

“Beca! I’m so glad to see you, honey,” Mrs. Swanson welcomed, “You look so great, so young and beautiful. I know why Jesse was always taken with you.” Mrs. Swanson was telling the truth. Beca wasn’t the type of cheerleader beautiful that was always portrayed in movies and television shows. Beca was something else, something special. Maybe it was her passion or the way when she was comfortable, she would light up the room, but there was definitely something about Beca that made her stand out among Jesse’s friends.

Even from a young age, Mrs. Swanson could recall the individuality Beca brought everywhere, starting from when she decided to go talk to the principal of the elementary school to have better music classes. With a look on determination on her face, Beca walked briskly into the principal’s office, which was something many other children wouldn’t even think of doing. 

“Thank you, but you, on the other hand, look better than ever. I’m so glad I ran into Jesse yesterday. So, how are you?” Beca took a seat on the chair next to Mrs. Swanson’s bed while Jesse leaned against the doorframe, watching the two of them interact. Beca looked up at him, giving him a smile in return before returning her focus onto his mother who was going on and on about this wonderful nurse she had met a few days prior. The two of them laughed and chatted about this and that, not even realizing that while Jesse was watching two of the most prominent people in his life, a genuine smile grew on his face that hadn’t seen the light of day for far too long.


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the night had been much to Jesse’s astonishment, fun. For the past few weeks, everything seemed so dismal, so hopeless. Every morning there was the food cart, full of who knows what. Jesse doubted if it was actual food or rejected prison meals. Next there were appointments, tons and tons of appointments. Blood work, IVs, and more hospital food came and went and there were always empty hours on hours of complete nothingness. 

They tried to fill it up with cards or charades or movies, but there was always a second or two when Jesse’s mind jumped back to the reality of the situation, as if punched in the gut with the prospect of his mother, his amazing and loving mother, not being around for much longer.

The days got longer and the conversations more serious and Jesse just wanted to scream out loud, but instead, he plastered a smile on his face, doing anything he could possibly do to make his mother as comfortable as she possibly could be. He didn’t think she noticed how sometimes he would get quiet and stare off outside the hospital window or how on other days, she couldn’t even cheer him up with a movie. When she was looking, he was bubbly and funny and all together her Jesse, but the moment her eyes wandered, a sullen look grazed his face, knowing of the severity of the situation at hand.

For now, he was okay. He was okay. He was okay. 

Everything was so much better with Beca there, her presence bringing a genuine smile to his and his mother’s faces, something that seemed so rare. Her personality radiated, bringing a new light to the room, new jokes and new sarcasm. He missed going head to head with her in their witty banter. For a second he forget the doctors passing by the windows, checking on his mother’s charts or the ominous beeping, reminding him of his mother’s deteriorating health. Beca was here and he was going to be fine, right?   
…..

She had fallen asleep in one of the chairs, curled up in a ball with her arms wrapped around her legs. If you saw her now, no one would believe she was THE Beca Mitchell, the girl who had blew up around the world seemly overnight. Her makeup was smeared and her clothes were wrinkled. The designer dresses and paparazzi were nowhere to be found. 

To him, she was just Beca and that’s all he ever wanted. She was so small that if he closed his eyes, he was afraid he would lose her to the big, hospital seat she was laying on. One blink and this could all be a dream and she would be back in London or Los Angeles or who knows where, but for this one fleeting second, she was here. 

In some respects, he felt selfish, like he was taking this wonderful, budding music producer and stealing her away from the rest of the world when he knew she was destined to be there, surrounded by flashes and screaming fans. But, here she was, in a random hospital in the middle of Atlanta, probably straining her neck as she dozed off in the lumpy, hospital chair. 

It wasn’t like she didn’t look beautiful in the tabloid articles he had seen about her over the months, but here, she didn’t look like anyone else but Beca. She looked so much younger when she was sleeping, almost like when they were little kids. The scowl she reserved for anyone who annoyed her had disappeared, replaced by an expression that could only be defined as completely and utterly peaceful. 

Jesse just wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her to stay, but she had to go back to Los Angeles eventually, to be the star that everyone knew she could...would be. 

In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit jealous, the need to succeed at the forefront of his mind. In many ways, his and Beca’s dreams were not too different. Given, they were in different fields of the industry, but they both circled around their shared passion for music. 

His parents, although very supportive, had their doubts about going into the film industry. “You would make a wonderful doctor, Jesse,” his parents would say, “You are such a caring boy.” Jesse would try to brush off their comments, but it was getting harder and harder to do so with college admissions right around the corner. They signed him up for science electives for the next school year and he hardly had the will to protest. He had to make his mother proud. 

So, reluctantly, he started to look at medical careers, almost falling asleep at his computer. He didn’t want his parents to stress out that one day they would find him on the side of the road in NYC, begging for money to fund his next movie venture, but he also didn’t want to give up on his dream. Hidden underneath all the college brochures and letters and everything else spread across his bed, were movies and film scholarships and lists of the best film schools in the country. 

He felt bad, he actually felt terrible looking at schools halfway across the country. He wanted to go to Los Angeles; he had dreamed of it ever since he was little, watching Fight Club in his Star Wars pajamas, but at this moment, he couldn’t think of abandoning his family, of leaving them when they needed him the most. 

Instead of watching movies downstairs on the flat screen TV, sometimes Jesse would go off to his bedroom, pretending to be doing chemistry homework while he was actually watching the director’s commentary to Rocky or Birdman. As much as he tried, he couldn’t shake his love of film. 

Beca had done it...she had actually done it. She bypassed all that college stuff, all the starving artist years and trips to drop off cashier’s checks or pick up some quarters for the laundromat. Somehow, she had achieved her dreams without any of those middle years. For Jesse, even if he did get into a good college with a degree in music production and film, there was no clear path for him to continue on. The film industry was lucrative, relying more on connection than resumes. He might never get a job or work in his desired field. 

Beca had done what he wished he could’ve and in some respects he envied her for that. He wanted to be the one jetting off to Los Angeles to consult with a record producer or be the one who got fan letters. She was what he hoped to achieve in five, ten years. 

Jesse should be mad at her, she left for god’s sake, but he couldn’t. She was living her dream, doing everything she had ever wanted to do. The jealousy was deeply hidden within him, overpowered by his immense pride for what his friend had accomplished. She was amazing...she is amazing and he is so proud of what she was able to do. It wasn’t like he didn’t know she had it in him, but the scary part was if the rest of the world would see that as well.

Maybe if it was someone undeserving of her newfound fame, he would be angry, but this was Beca. She was such a hard worker, sometimes too hard working if that was a thing. He just hoped that he would have the success she had at some point in his life, even if he would never outright tell her that. Maybe if he couldn’t live his dreams, at least she could. 

“She’s something else, isn’t she,” Mrs. Swanson said, propping herself up on one of the many pillows scattered over the bed. Her eyes were kind and a smile grazed her face as she continued, “She has grown up so much since the times you guys used to run around our kitchen together in elementary school, but I could still see that spark that she had all those years ago.” 

There was a silence, a comfortable silence blanketing over the room as Mrs. Swanson watched the two of them. “Don’t let go of her, okay, Jess?” She said, her voice getting softer and softer as her breathing steadied.

Almost just for himself to hear, Jesse responded, “Never.” Wrapping an arm around Beca’s shoulder and pulling a blanket over the two of them, Jesse closed his eyes and for once, felt a tiny bit of weight lift off his shoulders.

Mrs. Swanson looked at the two, almost young adults, whom she had known for pretty much her entire life. She saw a girl who seemingly was on top of the world and a boy who world had just been ripped up from under him. “And Jesse,” she continued even though she knew he was fast asleep, “Don’t let go of yourself.”


	8. Chapter 8

Mrs. Swanson woke up to a doctor knocking on the door, a clipboard in hand. Rubbing her eyes and pulling a hand through her hair, she beckoned him in, sitting up straight so he could give her her medicine. It was normal, just like every other day. 

On one hand she was okay with it but a small piece of her hated that taking pills and living through tubes and medicine had become her own ‘normal’. Normalcy had altered and shifted throughout the prior months but one thing had always kept a smile on her face. 

Jesse. 

What would she do without him? More caring and considerate than she could ever ask for, he was wordlessly there for her whenever she needed him. She knew that he wanted desperately to go to London to surprise Beca, but he stayed with her, not even mentioning how he had to cancel his flight. He was too kind sometimes for his own good.

Her little boy, even though he wasn’t so little anymore was fast asleep on one of the hospital chairs. She couldn’t put into words how happy she was that Beca was here. That girl, even though turmoil seemed to follow her every move, has somehow managed to wiggle herself back into Jesse’s life. 

When they were younger she knew there was something there, some connection that spanned deeper than just friendship. She would watch them play together, ripping through the house like two spinning tops. Somehow, despite their contrasting personalities, they fit. It was cliche, wasn’t it, but it was true.

Of course, she had her reservations, but didn’t any good parent?

Beca wasn’t perfect, she was even self proclaimed imperfect. She was sometimes too sarcastic and from what Jesse said at their family dinners, Beca was known to push people away. Even though he didn’t see it, Mrs. Swanson could tell by his description of Beca’s actions that Beca was a little too closed off and that scared Mrs. Swanson to her core.

It took a long time for her to pick up the pieces when Beca left all those years ago, promising Jesse that at some time his heart would hurt less. And then she was back...back-talking and music addicted Beca, her snark all wrapped up in her five foot two frame. It was almost like she had never left, slipping back into his life with ease.

She couldn’t believe it at first, knowing the strained relationship Beca had with her stepmother and her own father, but she couldn’t complain because Jesse was happy. That’s all she wanted. He smiled more...she noticed that. 

She knew they weren’t together, but a mother could dream. Jesse needed someone like Beca to protect him from the world, from people who would take advantage of his kindness. Aubrey, for one, was not a good fit for him, molding him into her idea of the perfect boyfriend. Beca, on the other hand, was maybe even too distant, too quiet with regards to her feelings, bottling everything up and instead serving a plate of sarcasm and wit to distract from her emotions, but she cared about him more than Mrs. Swanson thought she was willing to admit.

Give it time. But for now, she was glad they were just friends.

Believe it or not, she was sort of happy Beca went to London. She didn’t need Jesse getting all wrapped up in her, in the enigma that was Beca Mitchell, even though he seemingly already was. Jesse was the type of guy that went full force into everything, from schoolwork to his music to even relationships. He had to get him to pipe down sometimes, pulling him out of his trance of determination, never giving up from his goals.

If the two of them dated, it would be the most intense, loving but also difficult, relationship. 

Mrs. Swanson would never tell him this, but sometimes he would put people up on a pedestal, including one, miss Beca Mitchell. When Jesse first watched the Breakfast Club, he didn’t stop talking about it for days, weeks even. All she ever heard were facts about the production, the cast, and the score. He acted like the characters were people he actually knew, knowing every single thing about the actors that played them. 

When he was able to meet Molly Ringwald, who played Claire in the film, his expectations were way too high; he wouldn’t be satisfied with any interaction they could’ve had. Never meet your idols...that was something to live by because after the meeting, at a fan convention in the middle of the city some years back, he wasn’t disappointed, per se, but seeing her up close and personal, he was able to see her as a real person and not this character she had played or actor whom he had seen all their interviews. The spell was broken.

Mrs. Swanson was a tiny bit afraid that Beca had become his Molly, a person whom he tried to see the best in. Don’t get her wrong, Beca was such an amazing girl with more talent in her pinky finger than most people, but she just didn’t want Jesse to get hurt. He was blind when it came to her, not noticing how sometimes Beca would pull away or become too distant. 

He wanted so badly for Beca to open up, to see him as a shoulder to cry on, but that wasn’t Beca. She was the type of girl to use her wit to run away from a situation, more comfortable with humor than actual, real conversations. Mrs. Swanson just didn’t want him to continue pushing until Beca had enough, deciding the best option was to run away. 

She knew that Beca wouldn’t do it on purpose, because she knew that Beca loved her son, even if it was just in a platonic way even though there was obviously something more, but she was still afraid that if Beca left again, Jesse wouldn’t get over it.

Beca would leave, it wasn’t like Mrs. Swanson didn’t see the newspapers. Somehow Beca had managed to make a name for herself while still at such a young age. It was a miracle, something so out of the blue that it was hard to comprehend. The girl, curled up in a ball less than five feet away from her was on the cover of tabloid magazines, her names lining the credits on various albums. Her success was nothing less than extraordinary but it also meant that she was being pulled in a hundred different directions.

And Mrs. Swanson hoped that if she did leave, she would make sure to be careful of Jesse’s feelings. 

But for now, everything was okay. She was here. He was happy. What else could a mother want?

For anyone else it would be uncomfortable, but Jesse looked at ease. One arm was thrown around Beca and the other arm was holding a blanket tightly around the two of them. Ever since Jesse had shown Mrs. Swanson how to use her camera on the iPhone she had gotten as a Christmas gift, she had taken pictures of everything and the angelic scene between Jesse and Beca was definitely not one to miss. Snapping a picture, she grinned with pride before picking up the newspaper.

Jesse mumbled inaudibly, stretching with one hand, but never letting go of Beca. Opening his eyes, he took in his surrounding, looking quite nonchalant until his eyes rested on Beca, prompting a smile to cross his face. She was here, finally after a whole summer of just seeing her on the cover of people or on some Youtube interview. Flesh and blood. She was here.

He didn’t want to disturb her, but she seemed to feel the others in the room awakening, follow suit. “Is it morning already,” she asked, her voice a little bit hoarse from just waking up, “I swear I could sleep an entire year away and still be tired.” 

Her comment earned a smile from Jesse as she sat up, attempting to smooth out all the wrinkles in her clothes before letting out a huff and giving up.

Mrs. Swanson watched the interaction between the two of them, how his hand never released her from his grasp, rubbing circles on her back. She watched as Jesse looked at Beca a little bit longer than a usual glance, noticing how the corners of his mouth turned upwards ever so slightly. 

Even if he didn’t want to say it or didn’t even know it yet...Jesse loved her, all of five foot two, smack talking, ear spike wearing Beca wrapped up in a bow.

Mrs. Swanson just hoped Beca wouldn’t hurt him but once she saw how Beca leaned into his body, her head resting in the crook of his neck, she realized that maybe, Beca would get on a plane to Los Angeles or close off about her family life, but if there was one person to get her to open up, it was Jesse. She was trying...and that was enough.


	9. Chapter 9

“You’re staring,” Beca said, licking the ice cream cone. The chocolaty goodness ran down her fingers, contouring to the curves of her hand. Sprinkles decorated the cone, in every which way, as the ice cream swirled around and around to the tip. 

They had managed to sneak down towards the nearby ice cream shop, running back into the hospital with sticky fingers and brain freeze. They must’ve looked like children, Beca’s laugh ringing throughout the lobby. 

There were glares and kids tugging on their parent’s sleeves for their own ice cream, but Beca and Jesse were almost immune to the world, stuck in their own bubble.

Mostly they got some side eye from the receptionists, but they were just jealous. 

She missed this, this sense of freedom and fun. Her summer had gone by so fast, almost like it had slipped through her fingers like grains of sand. The beginning weeks were full of coffee runs and fixing the printer, groaning alongside Luke as they did the most menial tasks. 

Then it happened, the accident that changed her life. Who would’ve thought that Beca Mitchell would be targeted by paparazzi or be a guest on a talk show. Those things just didn’t happen to regular people. 

It wasn’t like she wanted the fame, or even asked for it. Most of the times she wanted to punch the photographers, clad in black, following her around every turn just to make a quick buck.

A few times, Luke had to even wrap his arm around her back, rubbing his thumb in circles, because he saw her fist start to clench and her jawline become rigid.

What people, let’s be honest, in their right mind would care about what her favorite food was or where she saw herself in ten years? It was just all too much sometimes, all too crazy. 

Mark Whitman had taken a liking to her, at least that was a plus. Allowing her to stay in the studio long after office hours, sending in the best stylists and the best agents all ready at the raise of her hand, Mr. Whitman had made sure that she was always taken care of. 

Beca thought that he was doing it so she wouldn’t run away, run away from the cameras and the interviews and everything else that just seemed so fake. 

It wasn’t the designer dresses or invitations to fancy parties that kept her from running; it was the music. 

It was always the music.

Finally, well not finally because she was still so young, she had the tools and the support to do what she loved. 

Her father throughout all her life had discouraged her passion for music, saying that it would never lead to a profitable career. That was not a lifestyle; it was a hobby. 

Her mother was better, taught by the streets of New York City about the importance of music. Art was everywhere in the city; plays, musicals, films, artists, and music...it was all there and for years Beca, alongside Luke, had stared with wide eyes, forever hoping to be apart of the commotion.

Only in her wildest dreams had Beca seen herself in the recording studio, headphones on and music blasting through the surrounding speakers. 

She loved it, she did, but sometimes all she wanted to do was lounge around in sweatpants and catch up on some stupid, reality TV show. She wanted to eat from the carton of ice cream or go to buy groceries in the middle of the night whilst wearing her pajamas, slippers and all. 

Now that people actually knew her face, knew her name...heck she a billboard on every street corner in London, she couldn’t do those things, be just normal. 

Beca missed it, but she was eternally grateful for the success she had been gifted.

Truly, she had mentally prepared herself for some ‘starving artist’ years full of cups of ramen and buckets of quarters for the laundromat. She had thought about the prospect of failing, ending up on some street corner and begging her father to pay the next month’s rent. 

Despite her fears, music was what she loved and if she had picked something else as her career, she didn’t see how she could ever feel fulfilled, feel truly happy.

Everything seemed so close to perfect that it made her skeptical. Nothing was ever this easy and sometimes, Beca waited for everything to fall apart.

No one’s always relevant. There’s always someone bigger and better, ready to slip into your role when you trip over your feet. This industry was cutthroat so she had to learn how to fend for herself, to survive. Always around the corner was someone, just like her, gearing up to take her place. 

Beca was prepared for that, but she hoped that it wouldn’t happen for a long time.

She could deal with the press interviews and the paparazzi. She could handle the high heels and aching feet, but the one thing she couldn’t live with is the thought of not doing what she loved.

It had been, it has been amazing for her and genuinely great to feel like people were actually liking her work. There was no feeling better than hearing her song on the radio or a fan coming up to her, telling her that she was an inspiration. Those feelings just can’t be put into words, taking her breath away every time it happened.

Everything around her just felt so crazy, so hectic and fast paced, but for now, it was her and Jesse, acting like the children that they once were. 

They were a force to be reckoned with, each holding two cones in their hands, two for them and two for Jesse’s parents. Finally, once they made it to the room, they were in desperate need of some paper towels, but no matter, smiles were still on their faces.

“I’m not staring, just gazing,” Jesse continued, stealing a lick of her ice cream cone. For most people, Beca would’ve bit off their finger right then and there, but this was Jesse so she let it go...for now.

“What’d I tell you? Chocolate fudge brownie all the way. How did you end up getting mint chocolate chip, anyway? Live a little,” Beca said, rolling her eyes when Jesse continuously moved her hand closer to steal some of the ice cream.

There they sat, cramped in the tiny hospital room, surrounded by the buzzing and the whirring of machines crowding what was left of the space. It was annoying, of course, but Jesse was okay with it. It just gave him another excuse to pull her a little bit closer, blaming their proximity on the lack of a decent sized room.

Beca just smiled.

“Now, Beca,” Mr. Swanson began, sitting on the corner of his wife’s bed, their hands clasped tightly together, “I’ve heard you became an overnight sensation. Jesse almost fainted when he saw you on TV. That late night show, I’m blanking on the name.”

Jesse’s cheeks flushed pink, earning him an ‘awww’ from Beca. 

It was right at the brink of afternoon as the sun made its way to the center of the sky, peeking through the windows parallel to the hospital bed.

“I can hardly believe it myself. I’m still convinced it’s all just a fever dream,” Beca laughed softly as she continued, “The only reason I was on that album was because I accidentally sent in the wrong file.”

“Well, it must’ve been destiny, I guess,” Mr. Swanson responded, a lighthearted chuckle accompanying the comment, “We’ve always known you would do great things, ever since you were running around in our backyard, blasting music from the stereo.”

She loved Jesse’s family, she really did. There was something so easygoing about all of them, but a hidden strength, a bond that kept them all together. When she was younger, before she moved to New York, her family and his family were the closest of friends. 

They had weekly dinners, barbecues and pool parties, and Beca pretty much had a drawer of her things at Jesse’s house and Jesse had hidden a stash of movies in the corner of her room. Everything had just been so perfect. 

When her parents divorced, it was like the world was falling below her feet, tugging at her ankles until she couldn’t stay afloat. The stepmonster arrived, clad with a whole arsenal of clothes and nails that looked more like claws. 

She missed days like this, where there was no agenda and she was surrounded by genuinely good people. 

“Jesse,” Mr. Swanson diverted his attention to his son, who was lounged across two chairs, Beca sitting crisscrossed between his legs, “There was no doubt in my mind that you two would do amazing things and Beca...doing what she loves...it’s only more proof that you will find your way in the movie industry.”

Mr. Swanson smiled at Jesse, his only son. From a young age Mr. Swanson knew that Jesse would never be the type of kid that you would take to a baseball game or NASCAR races, but that’s what made Jesse, Jesse. 

There were many days that he wished he could teach Jesse to throw a football, like his own father had done all those years ago. He would be lying if he didn’t wish Jesse showed some interest in learning about sailing or going fishing on the weekends. That what his father would make him do, lounging on the boat until the sun rose high in the sky.

But Jesse was a nice kid, truly he was. 

Whenever Mr. Swanson would drive past the harbor, watching the boats bob up and down in the water, memories would flood in from his childhood. All he wanted was for Jesse to have the same connection he had had with his father, but maybe sailing wasn’t the right way.

He had pushed him for awhile, maybe too much. He taught Jesse how to reel in a fish and control the sails, but it all seemed like it was going in one ear and out the other. Mr. Swanson knew that Jesse didn’t really have a love for boating, even though he wished he did. Jesse would never tell him, he was too caring. 

Even from a young age, Jesse had known that fishing was a way for the two of them to bond. So Jesse would slather on some sunscreen and pack his swimsuit, not even complaining when they would have to smell like fish for days after the trips. He was a good kid.

The only part that Jesse had liked about going on those fishing trips was being able to talk to his father for hours, discussing the movies he had seen and loved.

They would go to the movies together, Jesse on his father’s shoulders, steering Mr. Swanson by tugging on his shirt. Jesse would peer over the counter, his eyebrows furrowed, attempting to pick out his candy. Many times it was M&M’s, classic, or other times it was Buncha Crunch, but either one would put a smile on Jesse’s face.

Mr. Swanson was the one that mostly encouraged Jesse’s love of film, which became an ever present topic at the dinner table. Jesse loved it, Mr. Swanson could see it in the way his eyes would light up when he would talk about a movie he had seen or a score he had listened too. 

Mrs. Swanson was the main ‘worrier’. She wanted Jesse to succeed, of course she did, but he was just a boy still in her mind, a boy that was from the outskirts of the city of Atlanta, nothing but a love of film and a heartwarming smile to his name. How would he compete with the students in New York, with their big fancy computers and bottomless pockets? 

It was his dream to go to New York University or the University of Southern California, any school that was known for film. He was special, Mrs. Swanson didn’t doubt that, but there are a lot of special kids in the world and she just didn’t want Jesse to fall prey to people just as talented, but more vicious that he could ever be.

Every time Mrs. Swanson would slip some college brochures, known for their programs in the sciences and more specifically, medicine, under Jesse’s door, Mr. Swanson would be the one to bring home a collection of new movies, popcorn bucket in the other hand.

‘You have to let him at least try,’ Mr. Swanson would say, pulling her close to block her away from all her worries, ‘He can do it. I know he can.’

Jesse, on the other hand, was not as confident as his father. Hearing his father promise that everything was going to turn out alright, just because it had happened to Beca, only made his head start to hurt. 

It seemed like everyone was forgetting that even though Beca grew up with him, she still had been off to New York for years, learning the ropes. All he was in was a production class for the school morning show, which was the only class that was remotely connected to film and media. Plus, it was mostly for seniors who wanted an easy A or freshmen who didn’t want to take art.

His family believed in him too much, put too much pressure on him by just their support. He didn’t want to disappoint them.

He couldn’t.

Beca squeezed his hand, rubbing her thumb over the top, bringing him back to reality. “I’m not sure if Jesse would be able to handle the screaming fans. When he does become famous, everyone knows that he will become a teen heartthrob. How good are you at swatting away tween girls?”

Jesse laughed, happy to get off the subject of his future. 

“It’s all in the flick of the wrist. I can teach you someday. You’re gonna have some competition for my heart, Mitchell,” he continued, a smirk on his face. She only responded by gently shoving his shoulder. 

They both knew that no one could compete with what was already hers.


	10. Chapter 10

“It’s too much,” his mother whispered, careful not to wake Beca. Jesse played with the ends of her hair, twirling them gently in his hands.

“Mom, this is what I want to do,” Jesse replied, placing his hand on her own, “You can’t talk me out of it.” Mrs. Swanson sighed, running her finger over the top of the glass of water. She couldn’t let him do it, give up his future for her own. 

He was too selfless, too generous. Parents are supposed to take care of their kids, not the other way around. When Jesse was a child she would dream about seeing him receive his college degree, asking him to smile wide for the camera. Every time he got an A on a test, he would bound through the front door with a toothy grin. She would reward him with a kiss on the head and a movie of his choosing to watch that night. 

Mrs. Swanson remembered when he was only ten or so, playing on the local playground, she would picture what he would be like as a teenager, and later, as an adult. She couldn’t really do it. She couldn’t look past the adorable boy in front of her eyes to see the man that he would soon become. Mrs. Swanson didn’t want her little boy to lose his twinkling eyes or love of movie theater popcorn. 

She couldn’t imagine a time when his voice would drop or he would sprout up to become taller than she was. All she knew was that, whatever he would look like as an adult, she hoped that he was still the Jesse she knew and loved.

Snapping back from her daydream, Mrs. Swanson knew that the boy, no man, sitting in front of her was everything she imagined and more. He was funny and sweet and passionate. Most of all, he was the most caring individual she had ever met. 

Now, his compassion will be the thing that breaks him. Jesse’s love of others would always come first, even before his own dreams. She knew it was true, but she hoped that it would never be tested. 

As if her worst nightmares fabricated before her eyes, Jesse did what she knew he would do, give up himself for her.

She hated herself that very moment.   
She hated that she couldn’t be the parent that he deserved, to be the person who boosts him up, not drag him down with her.

$169,000. 169 fucking thousand. That was more than what was saved for Jesse’s college fund. It was more than they could find in the bottoms of their couch cushions and behind their beds. It was more money than they had saved for retirement and it was what Jesse was offering. 

“I’ll pay it, mom. I have a full ride to the state college. I can study medicine and get a good job. Use my college money,” Jesse pleaded with her, trying to look her straight in the eyes. 

She, on the other hand, couldn’t even look at him. She was embarrassed, no...she was ashamed.

“Jesse, no,” Mrs. Swanson whispered, the words hardly escaping from her breath, “I won’t allow it.”

He wasn’t going to push. He already knew what she was going to say. 

“Just think about it, okay? They first payment isn’t due until tomorrow.”

Mrs. Swanson rolled over to her side, hoping that sleep would quell her restless mind and her breaking heart.

…..

“No, I’m not doing it. Not this time, Mark,” Beca said into the phone. She tried to sound level, but the anger was tittering toward exposure as her brow furrowed and her lips pressed together. 

“Yes, I know it’s in my contract,” she threw up her hands in exasperation, “You don’t have the nerve to fire me. You need me more than I need you.”

Beca looked to Jesse and his mother, talking inside the room. It wasn’t going well. She knew it wasn’t going to. 

She waited a beat, letting the man exhaust himself on the other end. “Okay,” she replied softly, “Just get me my paycheck immediately and I’ll be out there.”

…..

“Beca, shit! You can’t leave again. I won’t let you.” Jesse held her shoulder in his hands, searching for acceptance in her eyes, but there was nothing. 

“It’s in my contract, Jess. I can’t get into a legal battle,” she was quiet for a second, hating the sound of silence filling the room. She felt suffocated, she felt caged.

She fell into his arms, wrapping her own around his waist. With that, he knew that he couldn’t win. He felt like he could never win. 

Without lifting her head from tucked in his chest, she continued, “Since I took all the required classes to graduate, they’re giving me my diploma. They told me that I have to move out to New York.”

Jesse knew that he could yell or he could protest, but that’s not what she needed. Still, after hearing about his mom and now hearing about Beca, something in him cracked. He knew that he should hold her close, hoping he would never have to let her go, but knowing that he would. Instead, the anger burned inside him like a bomb, ready to blow at any second. 

Jesse was about to blow now. 

“Beca. That’s just what you do. You come back and promise that everything is going to be all right and then you fucking leave. You leave me and you leave everyone who cares for you. Do what you always do...just go.”

She caught the next flight, Jesse’s arms being replaced by Luke’s, but tears still fresh in her eyes.

…..

He hated himself more than ever. When she left, the tears fell like a waterfall, dripping salty tears on his mother’s sheets. She rubbed circles on his back like she had when he was a child. 

…..

The next day he asked for the bill while his mother was sleeping. He would not trade his future for his mother’s life. 

He looked at the price, surprised to see the bold letters read “Paid in Full.”


	11. Chapter 11

He tried to call her, but the guy who answered definitely didn’t know that it was supposed to be Beca’s number. She must’ve changed it because of her newfound celebrity status. 

“You sure you got the right number, man,” the voice on the other end asked, “I’m no Beca Mitchell. But did you hear her new song. Wow. Now that’s a singer.”

Jesse had hung up, laying flat in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He counted the plastic, glow in the dark stars that Beca had put up on one of his sleepless nights. 

“See,” she said, standing on his bed, “Perfect. Now we don’t have to go camping. We have the stars right here.”

Jesse didn’t care that that was her excuse to escape the bugs and the dirt that she hated with a passion. That night, they just lied together, his arm swung lazily around her shoulder. 

…..

He could’ve Facebook messaged her, but she didn’t have a Facebook. She used to say that it was confusing and she hated the little stickers that he had tried to show her. 

“That stupid, Jesse,” she said, looking at the smiling face on her screen, “I don’t need something else to keep tabs on.” 

With that, she had rolled off her bed, plopping down on her chair to edit well into the night. He fell asleep on her bed, watching her do what she did best.

…..

Jesse didn’t even know her new address.

She had escaped from his life. 

She probably didn’t want to see him. 

She probably was happy to get away from him. 

She probably hated him.

He knew she was doing well, doing everything that she had always wanted to do...what he knew she could do. Jesse saw her face on the magazines when he was waiting on the checkout line at the grocery store. Sometimes he would see paparazzi photos or interviews with her on late night shows. He would smile, seeing her image staring back at him, but she looked too perfect, too clean. 

Jesse missed the Beca who would meet him down at the park with a gallon of ice cream. He would push her on the swing, the moonlight reflecting off the top of her head. Then, she would reward him with his favorite, melted snack. Sometimes they would fall asleep to the soft breathes of the trees and the distant gurgling of the water.

He missed the Beca who would be the only person who could rock an old band t-shirt and ripped jeans. She never looked more beautiful.

He hated how the memories he had with her were slowly softening with time. He never wanted to forget, never wanted to let go of the girl he once knew.

Jesse missed her, missed her sarcasm and her attitude, missed the way her fingers would dance around the keys and the way she would roll her eyes when he was doing something immature.

It felt like he was a child once again, longing for the friend who had vaporized into thin air. 

…..

His mother had finished surgery two days ago, resting peacefully in her hospital room. The doctors scratched on their clipboards and stuck her with needles, but they assured him that she was going to be just fine. 

She knew what Beca had done for her, but she also knew that Jesse didn’t want to talk about it. Mrs. Swanson just wordlessly tossed him the remote, as they watched whatever movie was on the television. She knew that she would see Beca again, but until then, she silently thanked the young woman who was a guardian angel for her family.

Beca had saved his mom. He could never thank her enough, thank her for giving his mother what he couldn’t give her. Jesse wouldn’t have to lose her laugh when he would go on and on about a new movie. He didn’t have to lose the person who always encouraged his passions, promising that he would make it one day.

Beca may have saved his mom, but even if she didn’t know it, she had saved him.

That month, he enrolled in New York University, taking the first step towards the rest of his life. He sent in his deposit and decided to dorm at Brittany Hall. Jesse put the New York University sticker on his car and spent way too much money at the gift store. 

Medical school was on an indefinite hold and Jesse thanked the gods everyday. 

He thanked her.

…..

They met after he had learned the route from his dorm to his classes at NYU Tisch, the steps becoming second nature. He loved the classes he was taking. Jesse knew that, even though he was stressed out most nights, he was doing what he was passionate about. 

They came face to face when he had made friends that seemed to make his workload less daunting, staying up well past midnight. 

They saw each other after he knew the subways by heart, favoring the N and R train at the 8th street station. 

Jesse locked eyes with Beca after he was on to getting his master’s degree, his dorm room already lined with awards. 

They saw each other when both of them were ready, when he had achieved the dreams that he had silently compared to her own achievements years prior. He didn’t have to be ashamed that he wasn’t successful, pained by his own insecurities of making it in his chosen industry. Jesse didn’t have to see himself as anything less than she was.

They were equals.

He had heard from a friend that she was in town, promoting her newest record. With a backstage pass and a ticket in hand, he made his way to Madison Square Garden to see the girl that had unknowingly branded him as ‘hers’. 

The fans roared even before the show had started, filling the air with breathless anticipation. When the words came out of her mouth, he was brought back to their performances in the basement, singing their hearts out as young children. He remembered how she had a superpower, a gift so much greater than most. Beca could touch people’s hearts with her voice, lulling them to fall under her control.

He saw her, up there, singing her heart out, and he was proud. He absorbed her voice like a sponge, taking in the emotions that she released with every word she sang. Jesse had heard all her songs and downloaded every one of her albums, but hearing her live was a whole separate experience. 

Beca’s voice was better than he had remembered, as she would sing in the shower or hum along to his old, car radio.

The beat echoed his heart, drumming to the adrenaline pumping in his system. He wondered if other people knew who she was behind the makeup and the thousand dollar dresses. He questioned if they knew the real Beca. 

She was the real star.

…..

The concert ended with bouncing lights and music that was so loud that his eardrums started to tingle. With one last note, she was gone, exiting the stage in a single, swift motion.

Jesse skirted past the hoards of fans, some even carrying signs with her face plastered on the front. He showed his backstage pass to the guards in black, rushing to be the first person in line to meet Beca Mitchell. Though, he didn’t want Beca Mitchell...he just wanted Beca.

She turned the corner, laughing at something her backup dancer said. She looked absolutely stunning with her hair falling in loose waves, framing her face. 

Instead of the dress she had exited with, Beca was now in a comfy sweatshirt that engulfed her and a pair of her signature dark-washed jeans. 

He was told that he could step forward, and he did. Her eyes were still down, concentrating on signing the photos that were in front of her.

“Remember me,” he asked, waiting for her eyes to meet his own.

Wordlessly, a smile spread across her face and she put her hand on his face, running her thumb over his skin.

“I never forgot you, weirdo,” she responded, not caring about the several dozen fans who were squealing behind her. 

Beca pulled him into a hug, burying her face in the familiar scent of his clothes. 

“Stop running,” he whispered into her ear, his voice sending shivers down her spine.

And she did.

…..

They started slow, as friends. He wasn’t sure if she was dating some big music star and her schedule didn’t allow for her to stay in New York for too many days at a time.

Together, their Skype sessions became more frequent and whenever she was in the city, she would stay in the hotel adjacent to his dorm. It did start a little bit of buzz around the campus, and a lot of buzz between Jesse’s friends, but he didn’t care.

He kissed her in Central Park when they were ice skating, hand in hand. Beca, armed with sunglasses even though it was overcast, and a jacket that looked like it would be adequate for Antarctica, held onto him for dear life. She hadn’t been recognized so far, but they were testing their luck. With her new single out on the radio and her recent episode of SNL airing the previous day, Beca was back in the spotlight.

Still, this was New York, the place where people are so wrapped up in their own minds that they forget to look at life in front of them. 

“Jesse,” she said, “If I die here, the record label would never forgive me.” Latching her arm with his own, she hobbled along the icy surface.

“I would never let that happen,” he responded, holding her close, letting his chilly lips touch her own. 

…..

His mom was more than happy when she Facetimed him one day, her eyes opening wide when she saw Beca in the background of the hotel.

“Death traps,” Beca mumbled, kicking her heels under the bed and falling onto the white comforter. “Wanna walk to the next block and get some pizza? I’m starved.”

Jesse’s mom just smiled while Jesse rolled his eyes, saying a quick goodnight to her before laying down next to Beca. 

His mom knew that it was inevitable even before he did.

…..

She gave him the ring two weeks later when he came home for Christmas.

It had always been Beca’s, ever since they were at the movies all those years ago and he had proceeded to place a ring pop on her finger.

…..

He had to propose with a grand romantic gesture, one that would put movies to shame. He and Chloe brainstormed his options, even asking Luke what her schedule would be like for the next few weeks.

Luke was surprisingly helpful, sending him a calendar of color-coded dates and events that would tire out a small army. 

“Take care of her,” Luke said on the phone, “And if you hurt her I will make your life your own personal hell.” 

Jesse was silent for a beat, knowing that Luke was not kidding. 

He pointed to February 15th and Chloe smiled in response.

…..

On Valentine’s Day she was somewhere in Australia, singing at a tiny benefit concert to support arts initiatives in elementary schools. 

Jesse, across the world, was putting together the final touches on his plan for the following evening. 

Beca, boarding the plane, her eyelids beginning to feel heavy, smiled when she saw a single, chocolate cupcake straight from Magnolia Bakery. On the card, it read, “See you tomorrow -J.”

…..

It was the night of the Grammy Awards and Beca was jittery. With several nominations this year and rumors of her being the most probable winner, Beca couldn’t hide her anxiety well. Already, she had a hall full of several platinum records and one gold one, but she longed for the Grammy to take its place in the center.

“Jess,” she said into the phone, “What if I don’t win?” Her stylist eyed her as Beca began to pick at her fresh manicure. With a grumble, she stopped, returning to her conversation.

“Then there’s always next time. You aren’t going anywhere,” he responded, “But I have a good feeling about today.”

Beca took a look at herself in her full length mirror, seeing her face all done up and her hair falling softly behind her ears. The dress was magnificent, a royal blue that stood out against her pale skin. Jesse still didn’t know how, after all these years living in Los Angeles, Beca could be that pale.

“I wish you were here,” she continued, readjusting the silky fabric.

…..

He hated lying to her, but this was worth it. 

Jesse saw her from the wings of the theater, making her way up to the stage, her dress flying behind her. His hands were clammy and his fingers went deep into his pocket, grasping the velvet box.

“I would just like to thank everyone who helped me on this album. Mark Whitman, even though I want to kill you more days than not, I have learned so much from you over the years. Luke, you know how much I love you. Thank you for being there, always and forever. To my parents and friends, thank you for always believing in me. And to Jesse, words cannot express how much you mean to me. You are my friend, my heart, and my pain in the ass. I love you,” Beca accepted the Grammy as the ending music began playing.

She had done it. She won album of the year.

He never doubted it.

Catching her in his arms as she made her way backstage, he kissed her, pouring all his love and all his adoration into every second.

“One more surprise,” he said, getting down on one knee. 

“Beca,” he began, looking up at her, her face dancing with genuine happiness.

Before he could continue, she interrupted him, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” she laughed pulling him up and kissing him passionately. He slipped the ring onto her finger, but even without the ring, he had always been hers. 

It was inevitable.


End file.
